


Irresistable

by carolion



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolion/pseuds/carolion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie can't help himself. Cook is okay with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irresistable

David thought he'd been doing pretty well at hiding his, um, his _crush_ on Cook. It was totally lame, he knew, but he couldn't _help_ it. Cook was so - Cook, and David hadn't meant to, whatever, go all stupid and girly about him, and he'd really, really tried to squash his feelings, but the fluttery feeling in his stomach hadn't gone away, and he still felt all hot and tingly whenever Cook laughed or smiled at him. The worst was the gut-clench of shivery arousal whenever Cook touched him, which was kind of a _lot_. Cook never seemed to _stop_ touching him, whether it was a hand on the shoulder, or his fingers curling around David's neck, or pressing up against him on the couch, their thighs pressed side by side as Cook's arm lay lazily across his back. It was _impossible_ to ignore, and David's crush just got worse and worse. At this point, he'd pretty much given up on trying to _stop_ and started to focus on not letting anyone _know_ about it. But it wasn't like Cook was making it _easy_.

David couldn't help the blushes or the stuttering when Cook teased him, and he couldn't help the way he, um, got all hot and achey when Cook draped himself all over David, and he couldn't help but _stare_ , because, dang it, how was he supposed to _not_ when the stylists, whatever, put Cook in _lace up pants_. It was totally unfair! He could only avoid Cook as much as possible, and try not to lean into him when they _did_ have to hang out which, despite his best efforts to stay away, was pretty much all the time. Still, David was proud of the way he could still (sort of) look Cook in the eye, and how didn't babble um, _all_ the time when they talked. (Just - most of the time? And Cook pretty much thought that was just normal David behavior, not whatever, crush-syndrome.)

The tour was fine, despite David's annoying - whatever, and everyone was really cool, and only teased him a little (a lot) about the outfits he had to wear on stage, and David was totally managing his thing, and he was pretty sure no one knew. Sometimes Johns would like, nudge him, or wink at him when Cook was on stage though, or as they passed each other during the final number before the catwalk he had to do with Cook. It was really embarrassing, especially since he couldn't figure out if Michael _knew_ something, or if he was just being Michael. He got a little paranoid as the nights wore on, as the gestures Cook did at the end of 'Please Don't Stop the Music' got more and more elaborate, wondering somehow, _somehow_ Cook knew, and this was his sick way of teasing David about it. (David knew that even if Cook _did_ know about the crush, he wouldn't be weird about it. He would laugh, and he would reject David as gently as possible, and then he'd tease him about it, and generally make David's life miserable. So really, David's not worried about Cook's reaction, he just doesn't want to _ever_ hear Cook say 'No' to him like that. He's not sure he could take it - it would be far too real.) But if Cook knew, he would have confronted David by now, so he could only conclude that Cook was just being... whatever, his usual charming, stupid, smirky, smart self, which was awful because David's heart totally did flips and jumps whenever Cook got down on his knees like that.

The nights on the road were long and harrowing, and it was a relief when they got to book rooms at a hotel and sleep in _actual_ beds, instead of in the bunks as the bus rumbled on into the night. David was so tired he expected to just fall into bed and not wake up until it was time to get back on the road again, but he knew that a couple of his fellow Idols (or all of them, he guessed) were going to go out and have a good time tonight. They’d already invited him to come along, but he declined, knowing that he would only restrict the places they could go, and besides, he was way too tired to be any sort of company tonight, much less _good_ company. Everyone made the appropriate protests, but he just waved them off; they’d have a better time without him, he was sure. Of course, he’d assumed Cook would be going with them – heck, he’d assumed Cook would be _leading_ the whole brigade on a night of bar-hopping or, whatever, a nice dinner where they could all drink wine and talk about their adult lives – so it was a surprise when he heard Cook call “Hey Archie, wait up!” as the older man jogged to catch up with him.

David paused and waited, even though he didn’t really want to be alone with Cook, like, at all. Cook was wearing this tight white v-neck shirt that seemed to stretch across his chest and biceps, and the tangle of his silver necklaces always _always_ made David look at his throat and the thatch of chest hair that peeked from under his t-shirt. His jeans (at least they were jeans, and not those stupid lace up pants that always made him wonder how Cook got them _on_ , gosh!) were tight but sort of faded and well worn, casual jeans, and David wanted to rub his fingers along the slightly thin spots, wondering how long it would take until they ripped.

He smiled automatically when Cook reached him, in response to the wide, silly grin that the American Idol was sporting, and they walked together to the elevator that would take them to their floor. David squirmed nervously as they waited outside of the lift, eying Cook subtly (or, well, trying to eye Cook subtly, he wasn’t sure if he actually pulled it off or not) and wishing they weren’t so _alone_. He’d made an effort not to spend so much one-on-one time with Cook, steering their activities towards group-related things, and not isolating the two of them, like, ever, because David’s stupid attraction was actually getting worse. His heart sped up rapidly whenever Cook was in close proximity, and it felt like all of his senses were heightened and tuned into all of Cook’s movements. It was _so_ embarrassing.

When the elevator doors chimed and opened for them, Cook ushered David in first, following behind closely. David to ignore their proximity, but it was a small elevator, and for some reason Cook felt the need to stand close. Why, oh _why_ did they think it was a good idea to get rooms on the top floor? Twenty four floors? He was going to _die_. Cook was just so – so distracting. David glanced at him briefly, and found the older man smiling a little, his eyes downcast. He wanted so badly to know what he was thinking, what was making him smile like that. A shiver of desire ran all the way through David’s body – he bit his lip and looked away.

It wasn’t enough, looking away. Cook’s body was so close that they’re arms were brushing, and he could hear Cook’s breathing, in and out, and every nerve in David’s body was tingling, anticipatory and yearning. He wanted to lean into that warm body, turn his face into Cook’s chest and nuzzle against the firm pecs, open his mouth and – no! Oh gosh, no, no, no! Those were the kind of thoughts he had been trying to _avoid!_ David flushed and took a deep breath. But - _oh_ \- that didn’t help. Cook was, Cook _smelled_ like… He didn’t know, but it was some sort of spicy, musky cologne, and it made his stomach curl up hotly. He could _smell_ him, clean and dirty all at the same time, and he could imagine Cook fresh from the shower, running a hand along his jaw and neck and chest, before reaching for a bottle and splashing some cologne onto his skin, patting it in, his fingers lingering along his pulse point and his clavicles. The heat spread from his stomach to his chest, then it choked him, his throat closing up as pure want coiled throughout his body. Cook put it on in order to smell good to somebody, somebody close to him, someone who would be close to his body and put their face near to his, maybe to talk, or maybe to kiss. (David wanted to kiss him _so badly_ , it hurt, like, a physical pain twisting through his heart.)

“Hey, you alright David?” Cook’s voice caught him off guard, and David looked up in alarm, gasping a little – he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. All that did was get him a lungful of David Cook and that cologne though, and he was staring straight into ridiculously beautiful eyes, clear and bright and honest, and David couldn’t stand it, he just – he couldn’t!

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, and then fell forward, his hands reaching up to cup Cook’s neck gently as his mouth blundered forward, desperately searching for Cook’s lips. There was a surprised sound from the other man, but David didn’t pay attention, too intent on _feeling_ , because they were _kissing_ , oh my gosh! He pushed too fast and too hard, but he was crazy, had _been_ crazy for so long, had wanted this from the start (from _Hollywood week_ he realized with dismay) and he needed this, he needed this one moment to keep him from going completely around the bend. Once Cook rejected him – it would be easier from there, he was certain. But this – this is all he wanted.

He opened his mouth hurriedly, pressing his body as close to Cook’s as he could, rolling his hips a little because, gosh, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? It was electric, and he moaned, tightening his arms around Cook’s neck. This was – oh, it was so much better than he’d imagined, especially with Cook’s big hands spanning the length of his back, and Cook’s mouth pressing back against hi-

What? Cook was – Cook was kissing back? David pulled away in shock, blinking up at the Idol with big, confused eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked stupidly, suddenly aware of how he was, um, kind of straddling Cook’s thigh, oh _embarrassment_. (It felt so crazy good though, and he tried hard not to slide his body up and down since, um, he really really wanted to.) Cook stared back.

“What am I- oh my God, shut up, I’m kissing you _back_ ,” Cook said, laughing a little and tugging David’s mouth back up to meet his. David whimpered (Cook smelled so _good!_ And he tasted so – hot, wet, messy, _indescribable_ ), grinding down a little on Cook’s leg and gasping into the kiss. Their lips slid together effortlessly, and David’s brain went offline for a little bit, until somehow he managed to separate them.

“Does this mean, um, does this mean you like me back?” He said breathlessly. Cook laughed, low and sexy.

“David,” the older man said, sounding fond, “yeah, I like you back.” He leaned forward and slid his mouth against David’s ear. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for a while now, I just didn’t know it was okay. Is it? Is it okay?” His voice was hoarse and aroused, and David felt the heat curled in his abdomen explode in an array of stars and fireworks. He shivered.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted, then hitched his hips up (which made Cook groan and curse). “You – you can? Do that. Do – it. Um, I want to. Like, right now. Like, a lot.” He shifted and kissed Cook’s jaw gently. “Cook?”

“Shit, god, hang on – “ Cook pushed away from him roughly and David was absurdly hurt for a minute, his heart wilting like a neglected flower, but Cook just hefted him up and kissed him hotly, and suddenly David couldn’t even care about anything else, just that hot mouth and how his hands were, oh gosh, his hands were sliding down his back and curving over his ass. Cook’s fingers were personal and intimate, stroking over David’s tight jeans and then dipping further, dipping to grip hard at David’s inner thighs. Cook made this growling noise deep in his throat and David felt his arms flex (oh, _heck_ ) before suddenly he was being lifted and shoved up against the wall of the elevator.

His back slammed against the wall, but David couldn’t remember ever feeling this turned on in his _life_ , Cook’s hands possessive and rough as they squeezed his ass and thighs, Cook’s body shoving between his legs. David wrapped his legs around Cook’s waist and, oh, that was _so_ good, it was _obscene_.

“Oh,” he broke away to gasp, “oh, Cook, please, can you-“ He arched his back, pressing their bodies closer together, and heard Cook hiss.

“Jesus, I don’t have – hang on, hang on,” Cook said between kisses, only he wasn’t doing anything, just tipping David’s head back and kissing him, all filthy and pornographic, so much so that David’s chest heaved and the blush he’d been sporting migrated from just his cheeks to his whole body. Cook had always been attractive, and he’d always been sexy in a way that the others just _weren’t_. And this – this felt like sex to David, only duh, it wasn’t, and he couldn’t even imagine what it was going to be like when Cook – when they –

The elevator dinged cheerfully, and suddenly they were both jerked back to the present as their slow crawl upward stopped with a little bump, and the doors started to slide open. David flailed, pushing Cook away with both his hands and scrambling down from around his waist. He panted and shivered, dropping his gaze and refusing to look at Cook as the doors opened all the way, and then practically ran out of the door. His body was hot and he wanted to – he wanted to do something wild and reckless and hopefully, if Cook wanted to _too_ , they _could_. He waited in the hall, glancing back to see Cook following a little hesitantly. His lips were red and looked bitten and, oh, David realized that _he_ had done that. He had made Cook look like that, his hair a _mess_ and, oh gosh, his _belt_ was undone! David flushed hotly but met Cook’s eyes, biting his lower lip without even meaning to. It – it must have been some sort of sign to Cook though, because suddenly the older man grabbed his arm and dragged him all the way to his room.

David pressed as close to Cook as he could while the older man shoved the keycard in, ripping it out and slamming the door open when the green light flashed. David made a sound in his throat, and Cook swallowed it, his mouth already attached to David’s. Oh it was so _good_ , being handled like this guided and pushed. Cook’s hands were big and his fingers were calloused, and they were really, really good at getting clothes off, because David was naked before he knew what was really happened.

Cook stepped back a little to strip off his own clothes, but he seemed to falter, his fingers halting as he stared at David. His mouth went a little slack and David was just _standing_ there, _naked_ , oh gosh, a flush traveling down his chest. He was – he was _hard_ and it was – he felt so vulnerable, completely nude and on display in front of his crush. Embarrassed, David turned to the side, trying to cover himself up with his hands, but Cook grabbed him gently.

“No,” the older man said softly, “don’t. Just – let me look at you.” David trembled, but obeyed, looking up into Cook’s face. He looked _wrecked_ , hungrily drinking in flat lines and planes of David’s body, toned from running and healthy food. He wasn’t – he knew he wasn’t built or anything, but he also knew he wasn’t fat, but even though he was normal, it felt so weird to have Cook just stare like this.

“God, you’re gorgeous. Can you,” Cook licked his lips, and David wanted to _die_. (Or, um, kiss Cook. One of the two.) “Can you get on the bed?” Cook’s hands were back in motion, and he was stripping off his shirt. Now it was David’s turn to stare, startled by how the appearance of new flesh made him _ache_ in his stomach, how he could feel his cock twitch as he followed the line of hair all the way into Cook’s pants. He nodded slowly and backed up, scooting up on the bed as Cook advanced on him, feeling that slow ache burst into a desperate heat that flooded his limbs when Cook tugged at the buttons of his jeans and shoved them off.

David stared – he couldn’t help it! – and felt this weird longing. Cook’s – Cook’s cock, he wanted to put his mouth on it. He wanted to suck it in, wanted to take the whole things down (but he doubted he could, it was kind of um, _big_ ) and it was overwhelming. He groaned and fell flat on the bed, closing his eyes and trying not to gasp so much. He didn’t know why he was sweating so much, a light sheen already covering his body, or why he felt the need to pant his breaths. All he knew was that he wanted to kiss all over Cook’s body, wanted to crawl into his lap and nestle there, suck on his neck and stroke his fingers over all the flesh he could.

He was still flat on his back, trying to regain some footing when he felt the slow slide of skin against his. Without meaning to his eyes flew open and he let out this sharp hiss, his back arching off the bed so he could, like, _press_ up against that pressure, making sure to rub his body against Cook’s sensually, whining a little at Cook’s soft groan of approval. He looked at Cook, who was _so hot_ oh _gosh_ , and licked his lips. Cook’s eyes got darker, somehow and suddenly their mouths were fused together again, Cook’s tongue stroking hot and wet and slick, perfect and everything he’d every wanted. David could feel both their hearts beating out of sync, a crazy thud-thud-thud that made his body tight and tense with anticipation.

“Hey,” Cook murmured, his voice a low purr, and David just sucked on his bottom lip, pressing tiny kisses to it, nipping playfully before opening up against. Somehow one of his hands was clutched tight at Cook’s smooth, powerful back, the other one buried in his hair. Cook was braced above him, still kissing him like it was _sex_ , his hips rocking forward in these stuttering thrusts that weren’t quite what David wanted, not quite satisfactory. He ripped his mouth away.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped, and wrapped one of his legs around Cook’s body. “Oh, _there_ ,” he moaned and threw his head back, his back arching completely off the bed as Cook slid _perfectly_ against him, their cocks coming into contact and making David see stars. Cook growled and then his mouth was on David’s neck, licking a long stripe from the hollow of his throat up over his Adam’s apple, pausing to suck a kiss just below his jaw, and then kissing all the way down again. David could feel his pulse spike rapidly, and he tugged desperately Cook’s hair, squirming until, until-

“Oh,” he said, breathy, his eyes wide with revelation. Cook had ground down at the same time he had hitched up, and after a moment of weird pressure suddenly, suddenly, Cook’s cock was sliding underneath his balls and against the skin of his ass, slipping between his cheeks and, _gosh_ it felt all kinds of _amazing_. He didn’t expect it to, which probably heightened the sensation, but it was so good, slick and perfect and it made his body light up. He _craved_.

“Cook,” he moaned, his abs flexed with the effort of staying up as Cook thrust shallowly.

“Oh my god,” Cook said reverently. David looked at his face – he was staring down at David’s face with something akin to awe and maybe, yes, something like fear. His eyes were blown wide and dark with pleasure though, and all David wanted was to keep that look on his face. He strained a little harder and wrapped his other leg around the older man’s waist, lifting until the angle was even better.

“Is this- “ he panted, mewling, “is this okay? Cook, please, keep – oh – keep going, please, touch me,” he begged, shivering.

“Jesus Christ, yes, you’re like,” Cook leaned down and kissed him, rocking up on his knees a little until David was bent a little at the waist, “you’re like something out my fantasies, this is, god, let me, let me,” and then Cook was pistoning his hips rough and hard, and his cock was sliding wetly against David’s thighs and ass, sending little shocks every time it pressed against his hole, making David’s stomach tighten up painfully. He was well aware of the bed banging roughly against the wall, and he wondered if everyone could hear, if they knew, or if they just thought Cook had a girl in bed with him. The thought made him want to laugh hysterically, but then Cook put a hand on David’s erection, and all thoughts of laughter or girls flew out of the window.

“ _Please,_ ” he hissed, “yes, yes, yes, _there_.” Cook’s grip shifted and he was pumping in time to his thrusts, and this was _sex_ , they were having sex, and it was good, it was _so good_ , all David wanted to do was –

“Cook I’m – oh – I’m-!” and then David was coming everywhere, all over Cook’s fist and his own stomach, some of it even getting on his _chest_ , oh my gosh!

“Archie, fuck, Archie, Archie,” Cook chanted, growling, and his hips were smacking lewdly against David’s body, so hard and fast it almost _hurt_ (but David never wanted it to stop, never wanted Cook to _ever_ stop this), and finally David felt him come, a low, ragged groan spilling from the older man’s lips as wetness coated David’s asscheeks and the insides of his thighs. A hot flash of arousal sparked inside of him and he whimpered because he _wanted_ , but it was too soon after last time, and he was _exhausted_.

Cook collapsed on top of him, burying his scruffy face into David’s neck. David stroked his sweaty hair gently, alarmed to find his hands were shaking a little. He still smelled like cologne.

“I haven’t come like that in _years_ ,” Cook mumbled against his skin, huffing out a startled little laugh. “Jesus fuck, that was so _hot_.” David giggled a little, and Cook kissed his throat – the giggles faded into a breathy moan.

“Was it okay?” Cook whispered to him, propping his chin up and looking into David’s eyes seriously. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“It was… intense.” David answered carefully, his voice a little raw and rough. He wondered if it would hinder his singing – he hoped it wouldn’t, but at the same time it would be nice to feel that scrape in his vocal chords, that little mark left by Cook. “I wanted… I want more? There were some things I, um, I want to suck you? Is that weird?”

Cook rolled off of him abruptly, and David tensed, worried. But Cook just said “Oh my god,” into his hands and then kissed David roughly, bruising his mouth. “No that’s not weird, Jesus, it’s – it’s awesome.” Cook smiled fondly at him, and David felt that achy part of him get warm and floaty. “We can do it next time, if you want.”

“Yes,” David said quickly, “I want.” And then, after a pause. “When can we, um, next time? Can that be like… now?” And Cook laughed, grabbing him into a hug.

“Give me a minute,” he said, but it was low and smoky, right into David’s ear, and David shivered and couldn’t wait.


End file.
